


the unfinishe[d] girls

by fableknot



Series: Name and Night [4]
Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game), Nier Gestalt | Nier
Genre: Ending D/E, Gen, Post-Game(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-01 08:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fableknot/pseuds/fableknot
Summary: The lost are desperate to be found.





	1. Chapter 1

124XX

The sound was faint, like wind whispering through a passage, like gravel trickling down a slope. Sharp and sudden, it pulled the skeleton from its slumber.

It was a scene the skeleton had replayed a thousand times over. It would raise its head, as though in a trance. Thoughts would come in fits and bursts, stringing together images one might think were memories. Often, it would catch a glimpse of a manor standing alone against the far-off horizon, or a chain stretched across a stained, tiled wall, or a flower that flourished in the night. The skeleton could do nothing as the images would dissipate back into the darkness of its surroundings.

Nothing, of course, but laugh.

Its broken body would laugh silently, bitterly, chiding itself for believing those lies. By now, it had to know that those sounds were only hallucinations, and those memories were little more than half-forgotten dreams. For as far as the skeleton knew, nothing existed outside of the cavern. Although its bony prominences were extruded from the sand, it could not move, and neither did the world around it. Dust continued to hang in the air undisturbed, while the walls didn't so much as tremble from the slightest disturbance. There were no skittering insects, or even the presence of erosion, to occupy itself with. So far released from the concept of time, the skeleton languished at the bottom of the abyss.

Once more, it would decide to return to sleep. Yet it could not help but amuse itself with those silly, unwanted thoughts. Like, what kind of life might it have had outside the cavern? Was it as lonely as it was in here? Or did it have friends? Enemies? What sort of names would they have had? What name did they call the skeleton? Would it still have a right to that name, if it couldn't even remember the life that name belonged to?

The sound came again, much louder than before. _More lies,_ it thought. Still, the skeleton waited, its surface slick with anticipation. It was hungry to hear that sound again, and again, and again, however many times it took until it grew tired of it. The seconds that followed moved slower than the years themselves had, and every beat of silence added to its disappointment.

That was enough. To remain awake was to remain in pain. The skeleton would be better off looking for a dream. 

"He's here."

Sand poured from around the skeleton as it was lifted up from behind. Voices joined together in a rich cacophony, speaking to the skeleton with such familiarity that it felt something break inside of it. In the midst of the chaos, it saw a flash of violet eyes, and without thinking, it blurted out a name.

The voices stopped. The skeleton stared intently at the woman in black, whose eyes seemed to be no other color than blue.

"Who's that?" the woman said.

The skeleton froze. Who? Whose eyes did it see? Whose name did it utter? It cursed itself for losing yet another memory.

A warm hand reached up to caress its cheek. "It's alright, Emil," she said. "You don't have to fight anymore."

With that name came a vision of himself fracturing into pieces, all to save the world his friends loved so dearly. That's right. How could he forget? There was a mission he still had to complete. One of his copies had confirmed the reconstruction of the machine network and the return of their gravity-controlling capabilities.

The woman in black shook her head. "The war is over."

Over? How long has he been—

"No." Although her tone was stern, her eyes were surprisingly gentle. "You've already done far, far enough." She made a nod to the device floating behind her.

With her next words, Emil forgot how to breathe.

"Nines? Take us out of here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were these little ideas that came to me over the course of Name and Night. Although I tried to ignore them, I started wondering more and more about the distant future of _NieR: Automata._ | This chapter was last updated on February 10, 2019.


	2. Chapter 2

12543

Devola shouldered through the stretch of pavement running alongside the road. Popola clung to her side, while keeping her hand on the peak of her hood. The puddles beneath their feet shimmered with neon lights, while the sky floated somewhere above the tall spires and busy streets. As the clock chimed twelve throughout the city, despite its place in perpetual twilight, Devola's thoughts turned inward.

The two of them had wandered for as long as she could remember. They've lived to see the end of the machine wars and the rise of their precious nobility. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly sparked the change. She could vaguely recall the rumors going around about the moon base and a machine's efforts to unite the two sides. Before she knew it, the Independist movement had regained traction, while the Army of Humanity faded into obscurity.

But none of it really mattered to her. While the world may have changed, she and her sister remained outcasts. Even now, they had to be mindful as they were pulled along the colorful flow of traffic. For a split-second, Devola could pick out a group of androids harassing a biped shopkeeper and a mother hurrying a little stubby inside. Though it may be an era of peace, the divide between them was as clear as day.

"Excuse me."

Devola froze. She could easily take a step towards Popola and make a grab for her hand.

"Would you mind taking my picture?"

Devola turned to find an android in a worn black dress. Her hair was cut into a bob, and the skirt of her dress split into two tails at her sides. Over her shoulder, Devola saw the machines holding an opening ceremony of the plaza.

"Devola," Popola warned. There was a note of panic in her voice.

Devola flashed a smile to mask her unease. "Of course." She took the camera from her hands. Although the android didn't seem to recognize them, the last thing Devola wanted was to cause a scene and draw suspicion.

She exhaled. It was a simple task, yet her chest shook with uneven breaths. _Just take the damn shot,_ she thought. _Nothing is going to happen._

Then, with a single _click_ of a button, it all fell apart.

A machine charged from an alleyway, bullets firing into the crowd. Another machine broke through the window behind Devola, shoving her to the ground and knocking the camera away from her grasp. She braced her arms over her head, her muscles tensing in anticipation of another blow.

But they weren't attacking her. They were attacking the other machines.

Her vision was spinning. Before Devola could even grasp the ramifications of what that might mean, she heard Popola scream. Devola leapt to her feet, her blue eyes searching until they landed on a familiar head of red hair. Popola stood frozen where she left her, her knees locked and her hood thrown back.

Devola slid below the exchange of gunfire and caught Popola's hand. "We’re getting out of here." She steered them back into the direction they were headed but had to stop as the city police stormed the area. The buildings seemed to crowd in on them from all sides. "Shit," she said, looking around. Their only hope was to lose themselves in the chaos.

One officer in particular stood out to her. Her cloak fluttered in the wind, revealing glimpses of her tanned face. She swept her tired gaze over the crowd, as though she wasn’t surprised by the fight that broke out, but something changed once those green eyes landed unmistakably on them.

Fear threaded through Devola.

The cloaked android seemed at a loss for words. "It's you," she whispered at last.

Popola's grip on her tightened. They backed away, only for them to nearly stumble over another android in uniform. He towered above them, his teeth flashing through the strands of his beard, before dragging them up by the scruff of their necks. Devola yelped, clawing and kicking wherever she could, but to no avail.

The cloaked android nodded. "Bring them in."

—

A flurry of expletives followed them down to the police station, coming from none other than Devola herself. Although she knew no one would dare to help the two androids, she refused to stay quiet when they were to be judged for their sins.

Despite her continued attempts to escape, the bearded android tried to entertain them with a story about how he used to be a weapons trader. Another android walked alongside him, wearing scarf around her neck and a tiny machine head dangling from her bracelet. When she noticed Popola’s eyes were caught on the accessory, she claimed to have worn an actual machine head, but for the sake of her job, she couldn't do that anymore.

Devola swallowed as they walked right past the cells. However, instead of being thrown in, they were taken to an office at the end of the hall. Numerous memorabilia hung on the walls. Devola could not help but notice the picture that sat on the desk. The Resistance. Devola’s nails dug into her lap. Next to it was a plaque that read "chief of police."

"We're not who you think we are," Devola blurted out.

"I know," the cloaked android said from across the table. "I'm sorry for bringing you here without warning. There wasn't time to explain. Please understand that we don't mean to hurt you. I must ask though, why are you here?"

Devola folded her lips, unconvinced.

"We came in for repairs," Popola explained. "My sister and I, we like to be by ourselves. We try to stay out of the city, but it was unavoidable. We promise you that we're not up to anything."

The android shook her head. "You're not in trouble. You've just come at a bad time." She made a gesture with her hand. "As you can see, the city has recently been caught in the midst of a rebellion. It isn't safe, so I'm offering you both sanctuary."

"How could you possibly have any interest in our well-being?" Devola demanded. "Who are you?"

"I am Anemone," she said. "Years ago, I met another version of yourselves. I can't begin to tell you what they've done for me." Devola thought she saw a flash of regret in her eyes. "In respect to them, I'm asking you to stay under my protection."

Devola looked at Popola sourly. Popola inclined her head, as though suggesting they should give her a chance.

"Fine," Devola said, "but we don't plan on staying for long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although these twins are different from their counterparts in _NieR: Automata_ and _NieR,_ I consider them to be more closely aligned with the former rather than the latter, which is why I chose that disambiguation. Credits to the anon who translated the timeline from the strategy guide. | This chapter was last updated on January 18, 2019.


	3. Chapter 3

Anemone took them to the building down the street. Inside was a small but unassuming room, with a single window in perfect view of the police station. She flipped the nearest switch and pointed at the bed in the corner. "You can rest there."

Devola looked around. "Where will you be sleeping?" There was hardly any other furniture around. She began to wonder how anyone could live like this, until she remembered their own situation.

Anemone paused at the doorway. "I still have something to attend to at work. What is it that you need? A filter?"

Popola nodded for them.

"I'll ask someone to fetch it from the shops," Anemone said. "I know you would like to leave as soon as possible, but feel free to stay as much as you want." She finally shut the door behind her, leaving the twins alone.

Devola made a face in her direction, although she was grateful that they wouldn't need to prowl around. Not only did it limit the chance of them being recognized again, the two of them weren't all that familiar with the city.

Devola's eyes widened as she saw Popola slip into bed. "Popola," she admonished.

"What?" she replied in a sleepy tone. "She said it's fine. Besides, it's been days since we've been able to take a nice nap."

Devola sighed. Although Popola had a point, she didn't like staying in Anemone's apartment, now matter how good she claimed her intentions were. Even if they weren't spending the day in a cell, she felt caged.

Her jaw clenched as she recalled the picture on Anemone's desk. They were healers for the Resistance once, but whichever camp they fled to, they were treated with contempt. If they weren't risking their lives on a mission, they would be beaten by the other androids, anyway. Nobody had stepped in to stop it. She couldn't shake the idea that Anemone set them up for a terrible joke.

Eventually, Devola relented and climbed in after Popula. The white noise of the city penetrated through the walls. A siren wailed in the distance, pedestrians chattered on the sidewalks, and vehicles screeched through lanes of traffic. Devola watched the light from the window play on Popula's face all the while. When they were by themselves, they would stay huddled together just like this, cooing reassurances. She pulled the blanket over them tighter. Her eyelids grew heavy until she allowed herself to dream.

Hours passed. Then came a voice as cutting as a knife.

"Remember: I want them alive."

Devola scrambled up from the mess of sheets as light flooded the room. A dozen soldiers stormed in through the door. An android wearing a feathered headpiece, with a veil reaching over her eyes, followed. Popula had turned a sickly shade of white.

"Devola and Popola," the veiled android announced. "You are now under custody of the federal government. You are to report to City Hall, effective immediately." As the soldiers closed around them, she added, "In other words, you are coming with me."

Anemone stepped out from behind her. "Devola, Popola," she said. "I never meant for anyone to find out. One of my units must have—"

"Save it," Devola snapped. "We should have known better than to trust you."

Anemone paled.

They were spirited to the more affluent part of the city, which was built in the sky. Ever since the machines decided to share their technology, they could afforded such advances in design. A network of roads connected the floating platforms to the ground below. A mismatch of gothic buildings and sleek skyscrapers awaited them.

The veiled android led them through the yawning corridors of City Hall. Devola tested the handcuffs around her wrists and eyed the two androids who joined them. Tassels hung from the identical hair clips over their ears, with one wearing theirs on the left and the other on the right.

"What should we do?" Popola said in a fearful hush.

"I don't know." Devola jerked her head towards the veiled android. "She wanted us alive, so we might be able to bargain."

Everything about her was strangely monotone, from the way she spoke to the expression that could be made out through the veil. "How much do you remember?" she asked abruptly.

Devola stared. "Excuse me?"

"How much do you remember?" she repeated. "Of your purpose?"

Popola exchanged a look with Devola before answering, "We were designed to be administrators of a large-scale system. Most of our models were destroyed, but we were put into something of a control group. Our memories were erased, and the records from that era were lost."

The veiled android stopped in a room that overlooked the city. "Not all of them." She pressed a button behind the desk with a black gloved hand, and a large holographic screen manifested in front of them. "Your memories, for example, were kept for research purposes."

The two androids went behind their backs. Devola felt a wire plug into her access port and an electrical current zap into her spine.

"Now," the veiled android said, "how much do you remember?"

Devola creased her forehead. "Project Gestalt." All at once, her mind was sifting through thousands of experiences. The people they've met, the places they've been—she was ashamed to have forgotten them, even if it was beyond her control.

"That's better," the veiled android said. "We may find some use for you, after all."

"'We'?"

"We've been called many different names over the years," the veiled android began. "The Human Heritage Investigation Committee, the Human Heritage Reclamation Management Organization, Command, even a bit of the Council of Humanity—but truly, we have none. Over the years, we have struggled to regain our foothold, thanks to increased public dissent and the loss of our satellites."

She held up a remote. "But we work with what we're given. We have built on the backs of the National Research Weapons Laboratory, the World Purification Commission, and even the Hamelin Organization." The veiled android shook her head. "I'm not here to give you a history lesson, though. The Chairman has a proposition for you."

Devola's pulse skipped a beat, a feeling of foreboding sinking into her spine. Popola's mouth popped open when a familiar face appeared on screen.

"Iberis," Devola said, her voice flat.

A bald-headed man looked down at them, wearing a smile that didn't extend to his eyes. He was a Celebrant android, whose purpose was to return the giant's maso to the other reality.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he droned. "Do you know how hard it is to get a hold of Devola and Popula models? How have you—"

"Sir," the veiled android interrupted. "Why is there smoke coming from behind you?"

Iberis was perfectly still. "Smoke?"

"Yes, smoke," she enunciated, as if he were a small child. "Behind you."

He looked over his shoulder, and then looked back at them. Devola could see the growing panic in his eyes before he leapt out of his chair, patting at the fire on his back. "Is it spreading? Oh my god, it's spreading. Camellia, help me!"

She reached up to massage her temples, seemingly more exasperated than worried. "Sir, I can't help you from this side of the screen."

He proceeded to run in-and-out of frame, knocking the camera askew. They were all treated with footage of him rolling around the floor for a good ten minutes, his robe flapping around him in a flurry, until he fixed the camera and returned to his chair.

"I see you haven't changed," Devola said dryly. The ceremonies required dips into uncanny places, which may explain his mercurial temperament.

Iberis chuckled. "How cruel. You make it so easy to forget who's the nicer one."

"I know you didn't return our memories to play catch-up." Devola exhaled, long and hard, through her nose. "What do you want?"

"We want the sealed verses," he said in a way that was unnervingly pleasant. "You, along with the other models of your make, have stored away the remainder of your powers in the ten grimoires that survived Project Gestalt."

She shut her eyes. "Why? What do you want with them?"

"We need them to solidify our rule. We may control these cities for now, but we will not make the same mistakes as we did before." He leaned into his hand. "Why do you ask? You've been persecuted by machines and androids alike. If you can accomplish this for us, I promise that you and your sister won't have to worry about anything for the rest of your lives." His mouth kicked into a grin. "Do you honestly care about their fate?"

Her brows knitted. For a moment, she saw something, an image beckoning from the darkest recesses of her core. The androids, forever living under the iron fist of a shadowy organization. Her and Popola, finally fulfilling the lives they'd always dreamed about. But it wasn't right.

Devola had been about to refuse when Popola stepped forward and said, "We accept."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tempted to write another series of one-shots, except with a Mature rating. It might feature A2 and Anemone, maybe even Jackass and White, 6O and 21O, and more. Let me know in the comments if you might be interested. | This chapter was last updated on March 24, 2018.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun closed like an eye on the horizon, as the Trade City of Night grew ever closer. The place was something like the black market, where androids and machines mingled between bright and colorful stalls, where their darkest secrets were kept in the shadows. It seemed to be the perfect place to hide a grimoire all those years ago.

Devola and Popola had just gotten their bearings when they were shoved unceremoniously from the platform of the vehicle.

"Remember," Camellia said behind them. "We're watching you, so don't get any ideas."

Devola's fingers absently drifted to where they injected them. A microscopic tracking device floated somewhere in their veins. She could scarcely believe how their lives were upended so quickly.

She felt Popola's hand around hers, as though to lend her reassurance. Devola squeezed back before they ducked into the crowd. Jars of varying shapes lined the shelves around them, decorating the street in a pattern similar to that of a kaleidoscope. One stall had machine parts hanging behind the counter, while another had rows upon rows of weaponry, gleaming at them in invitation.

"The layout here is ever-changing. Do you think you know the way?" Devola said. "We could ask someone for directions, like her."

Popula looked to the twin-tailed woman behind the counter Devola was pointing at. She had a nice smile as she eagerly waved for customers to come in.

"No," Popola said, with an air that was distinctively apprehensive. "We can deal with this ourselves."

After much stumbling around, they found themselves in one of the more deserted parts of the city. The buildings were older. Familiar even. Devola held onto that feeling, knowing it would lead them to where they needed to go.

At the same time, however, her curiosity was stoked and her hand went for her sister's sleeve. "Popola," she said. "You know I would support you in anything that you do. There isn't a single place where I wouldn't follow after you." She drew in a small shaky breath. "But before we continue, you have to tell me why you accepted it."

Popola would not look at her.

"You've seen what Iberis is capable of," Devola persisted. "I've seen it. After our memories were wiped and he took over, there's clearly been no stopping him. He's done more harm in the last nine thousand years than we could ever imagine, and he's promised to do it again."

Popola's voice was quiet as she said, "They deserve it."

Devola glanced at her sharply. "What?"

Popula wrestled herself from her grasp. "The world deserves it," she said. "We _cared_ for the gestalts. It was hard not to when we had to watch them lead the same lives over and over again. One might go as far as to say they were our children. But we lost them. We lost everything, all because of another Devola and Popola." She bowed her head, tears streaming down her face. "They had one job, but they couldn't even do that right."

Devola reached for her, her name soft on her lips, but Popola shrunk away. "To make matters worse, the other androids had the audacity to punish us for their actions. And do we have anything to show for it?" She threw a hand up at the sky. "The data left over from our part of the project was blown up along with the moon base."

Seeing Devola's growing discomfort, Popola embraced her. "Don't you understand? All we've been able to do is run from what's happened to us, but now we finally have the chance to make things right."

Devola stared into the space behind Popola. "Okay," she said. "If this is what you want."

They walked through a back alley and came upon a boarded door. An avalanche of books were shoved against the glass next to it. Together, they peeled back the barrier and broke through the threshold. Devola coughed into her arm as plumes of dust rose from the tattered paperbacks and derelict shelves. When it settled, a musty smell still permeated the air.

Devola crept to the far wall and pulled out a leather-bound book with a dark-colored spine. She carefully blew away the layers of filth to reveal the glossy jade cover hiding underneath. "One down, nine to go," she said as Popola sidled up beside her. "If the rest of the grimores were this easy, we'd be done in no time."

"We're only lucky this one was ours," Popola replied. "From now on, we have to rely on the clues the others left behind."

"Yeah." Devola ran her thumb along the line of its face. "I guess it's time to go back."

—

"What an excellent specimen," Camellia exclaimed as she examined the details on the grimoire's exterior. When she eventually managed to pry herself away, she gave Devola and Popola a nod of approval. "Keep it up."

They were standing in the laboratory beneath City Hall. Floating rectangular beings, which Camellia referred to as "pods," hovered everywhere in the room. They worked beside each other in perfect sync, sealing the grimoire inside a clear container and setting up the strange equipment around it.

Devola tensed as she saw the letters of the celestial alphabet rise up from between the pages. The container seemed to be vibrating with some kind of sound, which was probably what gave it the ability to control its power.

"Isn't it amazing?" Camellia said. "This technology has been in the making for years. If it weren't for scientists like Zinnia, we might have never be able to get to this point."

"Zinnia?" Devola asked.

"He was the chief of technical development for the human forces, better known for his role in the development of black boxes and the pod program," Camellia answered. "Although he came up with most of our blueprints, he never saw them fully realized." At that, something in her eyes seemed to give away. "He was a fool, always joking about his intellect and looking up at the stars. Orion was his favorite."

Devola and Popola exchanged a look. It was the first time they'd seen Camellia display any kind of meaningful emotion. "We're sorry for your loss," said Devola. "Were you two close?"

Camellia made a face. "If you mean to imply that I had feelings for him, I don't. Androids are destroyed for whatever reason every day. Who would want to be close to someone like that, anyway?"

Devola and Popola stepped back as Camellia proceeded go off in a tirade of disparaging remarks against Zinnia. While it was a bit awkward seeing her like this, it was sort of comforting in a way.

"Anyway," Camellia said, clearing her throat. "While you were out in the Country of Night, we've managed to pinpoint where the next grimoire is. Have you been to Europe, by any chance?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That took forever. | This chapter was last updated on June 16, 2018.


End file.
